


Nightmares

by CreeperEyes



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carl Grimes Lives, Dreams and Nightmares, M/M, Negan is crushing hardcore on Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreeperEyes/pseuds/CreeperEyes
Summary: Negan has a disturbing dream that feels all too real, but he finds out he isn't the only one suffering from nightmares. Rick has them too.





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a creepy dream I had recently, and what better day to post it than Halloween, the spookiest day of the year?

Before the cellar door was even shut, Negan knew it was Rick who had come to see him. He didn’t get many visitors besides Rick and occasionally Carl. Sometimes Michonne or Aaron would bring his meals to him if Rick was gone or busy, but they were never very talkative. Carol had came to see him a few times which was always interesting, as there was a certain magnetism to her that deeply intrigued him. She would’ve made a great Savior.

Days were lonely and nights were isolating. Being confined to a cell vastly limited his activities, and he spent most of his time losing himself to his thoughts, looking out the window and jerking off. It was always the same routine. The window offered the same view every day and he could only jerk off so many times.

Rick would bring him books sometimes, but Negan was sure he’d read every book Alexandria had to offer. Most of them were shit and he always complained when Rick offered him a stack of cheesy romance novels (which had probably belonged to Olivia) but he read them anyways.

He would spend hours a day pacing around his cell just to get a bit of exercise. 

He’d gotten bored of counting the cracks in the concrete floor months ago, but he still did it every day because it was part of his routine.

He long ago lost track of the days, but they were all the same. Wake up, eat breakfast, think about stuff, look out the window for hours, jack off, eat lunch, think about stuff while pacing around the cell, count the cracks, tap the bars, stare out the window again, eat supper, jack off again, think about stuff, go to bed. 

Day in and day out it was the same. The only things that sometimes changed were his meals, who brought them and the available book selection. He wanted something different. He wanted a reward. He was due for one.

On very rare occasions, Rick would let Negan out of his cell for a walk through Alexandria. Granted Rick always had his trusty colt python trained on him for the entire duration of these walks and there was always chores involved, but he loved them anyways. Simply being outside, feeling the fresh air and the sun on his face would bring him joy that took days to dissipate.

Negan had a feeling today would be one of those glorious days.

Rick’s footsteps amplified as he approached Negan’s cell.

“Damn Rick, missed me that much already?” Negan gave him a sultry smile. “I see you’re looking as fine as ever.”

Rick sighed and put his hands on his hips. He couldn’t go one day without Negan hitting on him. He didn’t really mind the other man’s blatant flirting. It was honestly kind of flattering, but there were lines Rick refused to cross, and sleeping with Negan was one of those lines. Sure, he was incredibly tempted sometimes because it couldn’t be denied: Negan was handsome as fuck. He often fantasized about barging into Negan’s cell, pushing him against the wall, kissing him roughly and allowing his hands to explore him freely. Alas, Negan was his prisoner. Even an act as innocent as holding his hand would be a blow of betrayal to his people. If Rick did as much as give Negan a kiss on the cheek, he might as well tell all of his fellow Alexandrians that he was Negan and they should all get on their knees and suck his dick.

Negan was like a piece of expensive china, a pretty object that needed to be locked away for its own safety. Rick could look and admire all he wanted, but he couldn’t touch. He wanted to touch Negan...god how he _wanted_ to...

Rick cleared his throat. “Things are going good out there. The bridge is coming along nicely. We’ve improved the walls. We’ve got plenty of food. People are happy.”

“I know that’s not the real reason you came to see me. Unless you came down here just to check me out, which I wouldn’t blame you for, I know you’ve got something on your mind.” Negan got up from his mattress and approached the bars.

“Judith’s birthday is tomorrow. I just asked her what she wanted and I was expecting the typical ‘I want a pony’ or ‘I want another brother’ but no...she wants to see you.” Rick furrowed his brows and set his jaw, not looking directly at Negan. “She remembers you.”

“Of course she does. Nobody forgets me. And I could never forget about that little angel.” Negan smiled genuinely. Judith made his heart melt, and having the opportunity to see her would have his spirits lifted for weeks.

“You’ve been very well behaved,” Rick continued. “I’ve been thinking it over all day, and I’ve decided I’ll allow it because it’s her birthday wish. It’s what she wants. I’ll escort you to my place to see Judith, because I don’t want her coming down here. I don’t want her knowing about this place.”

He produced a shiny pair of hand cuffs and patted his gun to emphasize what would happen if Negan tried anything.

“What to do think, Negan? Want to go for a walk?”

“Baby, I’d go anywhere with you,” Negan purred and reached through the bars. “Go ahead and cuff me, officer.”

Rick rolled his eyes in response.

 

*********************************************************************************************

Negan felt like he was in heaven. The sun was shining, birds were chirping and Alexandrians bustled around carrying out their daily tasks. He was outside! It was such a simple thing, but he was so elated each time he got to experience it. Best of all, he was only mere minutes away from seeing Judith. He smiled to himself as he envisioned himself bouncing Judith on his knee, her golden curls bobbing as she giggled happily. Right now, that was all Negan wanted. 

Rick sauntered beside him, hand on his gun just in case. Negan was always well behaved on walks, but he had to be prepared for anything should it arise.

Rick’s residence was only a few blocks away from Negan’s cell, but reaching it took quite a while since Negan had to stop and look at everything. He’d seen damn near everything the community had to offer before, but it had been so long since he’d seen it that everything was basically new to him again.

It was a truly gorgeous day, so many of Alexandria’s citizens were doing things outside. Negan looked around contently and took in all the people who were out and about.

There was Rosita, keeping watch from her high perch.

There was Carl, walking hand in hand with Enid, laughing about something she said.

There was Daryl, savoring a cigarette and giving him a hateful death glare.

There was Carol on her bench swing with Ezekiel, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder.

There was Simon in his yard, mending his front steps with tools strewn about.

Wait. That couldn’t be right.

Negan blinked in confusion and momentarily looked away. He was seeing things again. Or so he thought, because when he returned his gaze, Simon was still there.

“Rick!” Negan prodded Rick to get his attention.

“What’s the matter?” Rick asked in a very uncaring tone.

“Right there!” Negan pointed at Simon. “Don’t you see him?”

“What the hell is wrong with you? There’s no one there. I knew letting you out was a mistake. You’re a fucking mental case.” Rick shook his head and fondled his gun.

Simon dropped the hammer he held, stood up slowly and tipped his head back. His arms were limp at his sides, and he seemed taller than he had before, which unnerved Negan. He turned to look over his shoulder, and Negan’s stomach dropped as a wave of uneasiness swept over him.

“Rick....” Negan tapped Rick furiously to rouse his attention.

Rick didn’t respond.

Something was seriously wrong. Negan didn’t know exactly what it was, but it left him an anxious mess and he felt strangely afraid.

“Rick, shoot him!” Negan said in a panic. “Now!”

The sound of bones snapping filled the air as Simon twisted his head all the way around to stare at Negan despite facing away from him. He wore a demonic smile and dark blood like liquid coated his teeth and dripped from his mouth.

“Fuck!” Negan staggered backwards and nearly fell on his ass. “Rick, kill him! Ri-”

Rick was gone.

Negan looked around in a wild frenzy and realized with terror that he was alone.

 _Everybody_ was gone.

He frantically looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing in reach. 

A shrill otherworldly shriek met Negan’s ears and he whipped around just in time to to see Simon sprint towards him in a jerky, unnatural fashion. What sounded like deep, distorted giggling emanated from his throat.

Negan’s eyes went wide and his blood turned to ice. He wasn’t stupid enough to try and take him out while unarmed and handcuffed, so he bolted down the main road as fast as he could. Before long, he was panting and his legs were burning, but he couldn’t stop. He had to keep going. He ducked between two houses hoping that he could lose Simon, but he wasn’t that lucky.

Simon toyed with Negan, matching his pace and purposely staying far back enough to make Negan think he had a chance of escape.

The suburbia surrounding Negan offered no places to hide. The homes were all dark and locked up, and there were no cars on the street for him to hop into. Climbing the watch towers wasn’t an option because the ladders leading to them lay in pieces on the ground, making them inaccessible. Alexandria’s gates were welded shut and the walls were impossibly tall, effectively trapping him inside with his relentless pursuer. 

No matter where Negan ran, Simon saw him. He couldn’t escape.

Negan was ready to drop from exhaustion, and his lungs were screaming at him to stop and take a rest, but the low, garbled howls of laughter from behind him drew closer. He pushed himself to keep going. He had to.

Up ahead, he saw salvation in the form of Rick’s house. Steel bars had been set over all of the windows, protecting the house from uninvited guests. Soft light shone through the front door, beckoning him. The warm, inviting home was a beacon of hope in the suddenly dark sky.

Not stopping for even a second, Negan ran onto the porch and tugged on the doorknob. It was open! He flung the door open, bolted inside and slammed it shut right as Simon darted up the porch steps and starting pounding on the door relentlessly.

Negan braced himself against the shaking door and managed to get it locked shut before it was busted open. He stumbled into the kitchen and collapsed against the fridge, panting heavily. He let himself slide down to the floor as his legs practically gave out from underneath him. Over the sound of his own labored panting, he could hear Simon snarling outside. Though it was unwise to let his guard down when danger was near, he rested for a few minutes so his accelerated heart rate could return to normal.

“Rick?” he called out. “Carl? Anybody home?”

Only silence greeted him.

“Of course not.” he groaned.

He needed a weapon. A gun would be ideal, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t find one.

Once he was rested up, he tore apart the kitchen looking for something that could do some heavy damage. He found plenty of wooden spoons, spatulas, cheap plastic cheese graters and butter knives, but the drawers were devoid of anything sharp. There were no deadly knives to be found. Negan glumly stared at a cheese grater in dismay. What could he do with that? Hold his possessed right hand man down and attempt to grind his face off? He had a strong suspicion that if he tried, he’d be the one to lose his face.

He searched the other rooms on the first floor, but again came up with nothing he could use as a weapon. It didn’t make sense. Rick was the leader of Alexandria, he should have weapons stashed everywhere. Yet the most dangerous item Negan found in his humble abode was a mousetrap. 

Rick’s bedroom was Negan’s next destination. More than likely there was a gun or two stored under his bed or in his nightstand. If not, he’d settle for a bedpost, a heavy duty shower curtain or even a table lamp. 

Negan stealthily approached the steps and ascended them as quietly as he could. One step. Then another. So far so good.

When his foot touched the ninth step, it creaked loudly enough to echo through the silent house. Negan froze in a panic, his other foot hovering in the air behind him. Nothing happened, he was still alone. He waited for a minute before deciding it was safe to move on.

He took the rest of the steps very cautiously. A few of them creaked and groaned softly as he tread on them, but not loud enough to give away his location. He tiptoed up the staircase until he was only several steps from the top.

Negan looked down as he tried to remember which direction Rick’s bedroom was. He was pretty sure it was to the left, and a quick but wary look down the hall confirmed it. The door to Rick’s bedroom was ajar, and a sliver of light shone down the dim hallway.

He silently crept down the carpeted corridor and nudged the door open.

Everything looked normal. It looked safe. Still, Negan wasn’t about to let his guard down. He hovered in the doorway and assessed the situation before closing the door behind him and padding into the room. The nightstand was empty and he found nothing but dust motes under the bed.

He sighed in annoyance, but went rigid as he realized with horror that the ensuing sigh wasn’t truly coming from him, instead coming from just outside the room. A loud, almost sexual sounding moan came from the hall.

He didn’t have time to wonder how Simon got in the house, he needed to hide or he’d surely be killed.

Footsteps sounded from outside the room, and Negan hastily retreated into the only hiding spot the room had to offer: Rick’s closet.

He closed the doors and silently thanked every God in existence that they hadn’t squeaked.

Negan was greeted by the sound of a gun’s safety being clicked on and off, and he was horrified when Simon called out to him.

“There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, Negan. I know you’re up here. I heard you go up the stairs. You know I’m going to find you, so why not make it easier on yourself and come on out? I’m not going to _hurt_ you Negan...I’m just going to viciously disembowel you, that’s all.”

It was less what he said and more that his voice was so disturbingly normal that horrified Negan.

Negan backed up further into the huge closet and tried to cloak himself behind Rick’s clothes. Shuffling footsteps came dangerously close to the bedroom door and Negan’s heart raced with pure fear. He was handcuffed, unarmed, completely fucked and his only hope of survival relied on Simon not checking the closet.

_Turn around and leave. Don’t come in here. Don’t come in here. There’s nothing to see. Look for me in Carl’s room._

Negan’s mental pleas seemed to work. The footsteps faded and he nearly collapsed in relief. Leaving the safety of the closet however was going to take courage and perfect timing. If he made a run for it too soon or too late he’d likely be caught.

Rick’s beige deputy shirt hung near him, and Negan subconsciously nuzzled his face into it. He wished Rick was here. Rick would protect him.

_Think, Negan. This is no time for day dreaming. You don’t have Lucille anymore, but you’ve got to defend yourself against this deranged lunatic. You need a weapon. Think hard. Where can you find one?_

“Looking for this?”

Negan nearly had a heart attack and his breath hitched in his throat as he realized with dread that the voice came from _behind_ him. Every instinct in him was shouting at him to run, and he knew that if he turned around, he’d come face to face with the man who was trying to kill him, yet his legs refused to cooperate so he simply stood there waiting for death.

Slowly, Negan turned around to face his soon to be murderer.

Simon was partially obscured in the dark shadows, but Negan could see his creepy, unnatural grin and the malicious gleam in his eye. In his right hand was Rick’s colt python, and he held the shiny gold bullets in his left. He let them clatter to the ground, and in that moment Negan had never felt more hopeless in his life. 

All he could do was stand there and let himself be killed.

Simon suddenly lunged forwards and violently shoved Negan backwards, sending him crashing out of the closet hard enough to break through the wooden doors. Splinters of wood flew in all directions as Negan was launched backwards and hit the wall.

He groaned in pain at the impact and fell to the ground, but the adrenaline coursing through him lessened the blow significantly. 

_You’re about to be murdered! Get up and run!_

Despite his head, back and knees severely aching, he scrambled up in a millisecond and sprinted out of the room and down the staircase so fast he almost tripped over himself. Fighting wasn’t an option, there was no way he could win this. To stay alive, he had to run. 

Negan yanked the front door open and jumped down the front steps only to find that he wasn’t in Alexandria anymore.

He was in a big open clearing that extended as far as he could see, and the full moon was high in the pitch black starless sky. A massive structure configured of chain link fence hallways and platforms loomed up ahead and he ran towards it as it was the only place to go.

He quickly glanced over his shoulder and went wide eyed as he saw Simon chasing after him on all fours. He scampered forwards like a spider on his too long limbs, moving scarily fast and gaining on Negan with each passing second as the sound of broken bones snapping against each other filled the air.

Faster. He needed to go faster. The odd structure was the only thing offering him even a shred of safety, and he was so close.

Even though he was completely exhausted, he forced himself to keep going. He ran up the steel ramp leading into the labyrinth and was faced with a series of branching paths. Platforms went up, down and zig zagged all over the place, precarious holes littered the walls and floors, and twisting hallways extended into blackness.

Negan impulsively chose the second pathway from the right and tore down the hallway. He ran and ran, but it didn’t seem to matter which path he chose. He couldn’t seem to lose Simon, who shrieked loudly and clambered around upside down on the bottom of the chain link flooring.

Simon’s knife pierced the metal and came up right in front of Negan’s foot, making him stop in his tracks and sprint in the opposite direction. The knife stabbed up again and again, but he managed to barely outrun the attack.

From the corner of his eye, Negan spotted a ladder coming up from a square shaped hole. He didn’t know if he’d make the jump, but he was going to try. He took a running leap of faith off the platform, extended his cuffed hands and managed to latch onto one of the ladder’s rungs. His feet nearly slipped, but he regained his balance and quickly climbed down to the next level.

Awaiting him at the bottom of the ladder was a shiny, razor sharp fire axe with a sturdy wooden handle.

“Yes! Fuck yes!” Negan exclaimed with vigor. Finally, he had a weapon. He could fight back and had a higher chance of walking away from this alive.

The axe was cool to the touch and it was no Lucille, but he wasn’t complaining. He felt a hundred times more confident already. As long as he was faster, he’d be victorious.

“Come get me, Simon! I’m right here!” he taunted.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Simon crawled along the ceiling, his knife clenched between his teeth, and dropped down to Negan’s level. He charged forwards creepily fast, but Negan was ready for it.

Negan brought the axe down right as Simon lunged for him. The first hit didn’t seem to have any effect, but on the second hit, metal cleaved through flesh and blood arced through the air as Simon’s severed left arm dropped to the ground.

A look of surprise crossed his face as he fell to his knees and stared perplexed at the river of blood pouring from where his arm used to be.

It was time to end this. Negan held the axe high and forcefully swung it down onto Simon’s head with a splintering crack. A large spatter of blood shot up as the axe split his skull partially in two and got lodged several inches deep. Streams of blood ran over his face and down his torso, staining his shirt a deep shade of red. Small tinges of black began running down with the waves of red, only a few wisps at first, then giving away to a dark reddish black liquid. It was slick like oil and far too dark to be normal blood.

Negan let go of the axe and took several small steps back as the confidence he’d felt only seconds ago completely vanished.

Simon locked eyes with Negan and smiled dementedly as blackish blood continued to flow down his face. He reached up with a blood drenched hand and started working the axe out of his head, showering himself in his own gore as he did. A series of wet crunches echoed through the air as Simon pried the bloody axe from his head, and slimy, stretchy strings of gore stuck to it as he pulled it away. He tossed the axe over his shoulder absentmindedly and tauntingly stalked towards his prey.

The platform behind Negan dropped off into blackness, giving him nowhere to go. Once again, the shred of hope he had was cruelly stolen from him.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Negan said quietly. “This isn’t what I wanted, you know that.”

He took several more steps back until he was only a couple feet from the edge. Maybe he should just give up and jump into the pit. Falling to his death would surely be better than the grisly fate he was about to suffer. 

A series of sinewy, gore slicked tendrils emerged from Simon’s bloody arm stump and rapidly began to elongate. The whip like appendages shot out and bound Negan’s still cuffed wrists even tighter together, and Simon howled with deranged, demonic laughter. It sounded like several different voices all coming together as one. A dozen more long red tentacles snaked out of the wound and reached for Negan. They slithered towards him and wrapped themselves around his ankles, neck and torso.

Negan thrashed about madly, but he couldn’t get out of Simon’s grip. His feet were yanked from underneath him and he crashed down onto the rough, cold metal ground. The tentacles completely restricted his movement, and he realized with despair that he was going to spend his last minute alive held down in an inescapable death grip, completely unable to defend himself as he was savagely torn to pieces.

The large thick tentacle snared around his throat squeezed even tighter and he desperately gasped for air. 

Simon slunk towards him on all fours and climbed over him. He smiled sadistically to himself as his main tentacle squeezed tighter still, completely cutting off Negan’s air supply. His knife, firmly gripped in his remaining arm, gleamed bright as he brought it down and slowly cut Negan’s face, neck and arms. Negan choked and moaned in pain, but his resistance began to lessen as he was deprived of oxygen.

Negan was dying. He felt his own blood course down his face and flow from his neck, he felt the slimy tentacles tightly bound around his limbs, and he saw Simon glaring down at him, wide eyed and maniacal, but everything was beginning to fade. His limbs got heavier, the hallway got darker, the pain wasn’t as strong and the howling laughter got quieter. Soon there would be only blackness and silence.

Simon leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

“No exceptions, Negan.”

Negan tried to scream in pain as the knife suddenly plunged deep into his torso and split him open, but he didn’t have the strength. A new wave of pain seared through him, but he was only vaguely aware of his intestines messily being ripped from his body. He subconsciously tried to reach up for them, but the tentacles kept him in place. Blood soaked through his clothes and dripped down onto the floors below as he bled out. As each organ was pulled out, he slipped closer to death’s embrace. His vision went blurry, and the last thing he saw was Simon sitting above him, fondling his warm, slippery organs in his hands.

 

*************************************************************************************************

 

Negan woke up with a start. His heart was racing, his vision was bleary and his palms were sweating.

He was staring up at the cracked grey ceiling of his cell. He blinked a few times as his vision cleared, and he sensed that someone was sitting outside his cell. A fleeting moment of panic shot through him, but was instantly replaced with relief when he saw who it was.

Rick was sitting in the chair outside his cell and it looked like he had been sitting there for a while. He cocked his head and looked Negan up and down.

“The fuck? Were you watching me sleep?” Negan inquired. “I mean I know I’m hot, but...”

“You were moaning and thrashing in your sleep,” Rick observed. “What were you dreaming about?”

Negan sighed and ran his hands over his face. “I dreamed about him again, for the third time this week.”

“About who?”

“Simon. You remember him, don’t you?”

Rick nodded. He remembered all too well.

“Why do you keep dreaming about him?”

Negan sat up and properly faced Rick. “I know why.”

Rick’s blue eyes twinkled with interest and Negan took that as an invitation to continue. He’d never been the sappy emotional type but talking about it might help.

“I didn’t want to kill him, Rick.” Negan began. Rick tilted his head and gazed at him quizzically but sat quietly and listened.

“Simon was my best friend. At least, I thought he was. He tried to have me assassinated so he could take over as leader of the Saviors. He straight up told me it wasn’t anything against me in particular, he just wanted what I had, and since he knew he’d be the new leader if I died, he decided to try and take me out. I don’t tolerate shit like that. Simon was like a rabid dog, aggressive, hard to control and too dangerous to keep around, so I had to put him down.”

“You killed him?” Rick asked curiously.

Negan nodded. “I had to. It was me or him, and I didn’t feel like dying that day. Simon was my best guy, and I trusted him with my life. I never thought he’d turn on me like that. Guess I’m not as smart as I think I am.” he laughed hollowly before continuing on.  
“I’ve killed my fair share of people, because it’s what we have to do to survive these days. Usually it doesn’t bother me, but having to take out Simon really fucked me up good. It was self defense, but nothing changes the fact that my so called best friend tried to murder me. Do you have any idea what that does a person, Rick?”

“Yeah...I do.” Rick replied.

Now it was Negan’s attention that was piqued. He got up and strode over to the bars, ready for Rick’s story.

Rick leaned forwards in his chair and clasped his hands together. He’d never told anyone about what happened between him and Shane on that fateful night on Hershel’s farm, not even Carl or Michonne. Secrets could only be kept so long, and he started talking before he knew what he wanted to say.

“His name was Shane.” he started and looked directly up at Negan.

 _Of course it was. All Shanes are douchebags,_ Negan thought to himself.

“Shane and I go way back. We were best friends in high school, and neither of us ever left our hometown. We were partners on the force, and he was like an uncle to Carl. On the surface, everything seemed great. But living in this world changes people in awful ways. I’m not the same person I was back then, but Shane....he couldn’t cope. I had something he wanted, and he was willing to do anything to get it.”

Negan gripped the bars and listened to Rick speak morosely.

“I mentioned Lori before. My wife...Carl’s mother. Shane had always been in love with her and I always knew it, but nothing ever happened until after I got shot. When I went into that coma, he considered me dead and gone. He told Lori that I was dead and just...replaced me. So when I showed up at the camp back in Atlanta, that fucked everything up. We were able to co exist for a while, but it wasn’t the same. Everything changed after Sophia. Shane got more and more aggressive. That last night on the farm, that’s when it happened.”

“What happened, Rick?” Negan asked.

“We were holding this kid Randall hostage, and he got loose. Shane asked me to help track him down, and I knew something was up but I went anyways. As we were walking through the woods, I remember thinking that I might not get to see Lori or Carl again. Deep down inside, I knew Shane was leading me away from everyone else so he could kill me without anyone knowing. He wanted Lori all to himself and to raise Carl as his own son. We got to the clearing, and that’s when he pulled the gun on me.”

“What did you do?” Negan was genuinely curious.

“I did the same thing you had to do.” Rick replied solemnly. “I had to kill my best friend.”

Ever since that night, many of Rick’s dreams turned into nightmares about Shane. Some were grounded in reality, such as the time he’d dreamed that Lori divorced him, get remarried to Shane and Carl shunned him. He’d had one dream where instead of Negan, Shane was the leader of the Saviors and he took extra perverse pleasure in tormenting and hurting Rick.

Some of his dreams took a darker, more horrifying tone. For a while he’d had a recurring nightmare involving Shane watching his every move from inside a mass of writhing, pitch black shadows. Everything he touched would decay and wither, and Rick would always be jolted awake right as Shane was about to suck his life force away.

The worst one was the time he’d dreamed about Shane, Lori and Carl fused together into one terrifying, three headed, multi limbed and many tentacled beast. The thing had spoken to him with all three voices simultaneously. It chased him through his own home, pursuing him relentlessly until it stabbed and smothered him with its dozens of tentacles. He couldn’t sleep for days after that one.

“Will the dreams ever stop?” Negan asked suddenly. The tone of his voice caught Rick off guard. Slowly but surely, as the months went by Negan was lowering his walls and letting Rick see sides of him he normally didn’t show to others.

“They haven’t for me.” Rick replied honestly.

No matter how much time passed, Shane still infiltrated his subconscious. The dreams would never stop.

**Author's Note:**

> I recently had a dream that Simon was relentlessly chasing me through a department store whilst laughing and shrieking demonically. When I finally seemed to lose him, I sprinted up an escalator, looked up and he was RIGHT THERE waiting for me. Later, he chased me into the aforementioned metal labyrinth, and when I looked behind me he was coming at me on all fours SUPER fast. I eventually found an axe and chopped his left arm off, but he just grew another one in seconds and attacked me.
> 
> So, I took inspiration from my dream and twisted it into Negan's nightmare. Plus, I just love the idea of both Negan and Rick being plagued by nightmares caused by having to kill someone they care about. As shitty as season 8 was, Simon was essentially Negan's Shane and I thought that was a nice touch.


End file.
